


Administrative Error

by SleepsWithCoyotes



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Genderswap, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 17:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10443303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepsWithCoyotes/pseuds/SleepsWithCoyotes
Summary: There's a milestone Cecil has been waiting for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Archiving old fic from 2013 - I actually haven't listened since ep 33, from the looks of things, so everything I post will likely be terribly non-canon-compliant. No comment spoilers, please--I do intend to get caught up!

"And now, listeners," Cecil says without a hitch even as his cell phone begins to vibrate, "the weather."

It's a text from Carlos, and he can't help the way he bounces in his chair, even now. They've been dating for the better part of a year, have shared a bed and government-mandated nightmares and once each other's bodies, which had been _soooo_ embarrassing; he'd have had some detailing done on his own if he'd known Carlos was going to borrow it. Still, it's Carlos, and there's just one little milestone that Cecil has been waiting for patiently for a while now, so he grabs his phone with shaking hands and begins to read.

_Cecil,_ it says--Carlos is always so formal! _Please come see me after the show. It's important. -C_

Cecil grins, restraining himself from leaping up from his seat or breaking into the weather with a whoop of delight. He knows Carlos isn't texting For Science, because then he would have just called, the same if there'd been some danger to the town--and it's so _sweet_ of him to be so worried, even after two years. If he has something important to talk to Cecil about that's also personal, then who knows? Maybe tonight is finally the night!

He cheats a little in winding up the show, giving his sign-off right after the weather and going to a prerecorded segment so he can get some of his closing duties done ahead of time. If he weren't between interns...but as his mother used to say, 'If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, the Tooth Fairies would be running the City Council, and I know you don't want _that._ ' Besides, he's used to making do on his own.

Carlos is halfway across town from the station, but Cecil doesn't mind the drive. He gets off work well before curfew, and if he misses the window to get back to his apartment in time, Carlos has always been a gentleman about letting him stay.

He parks in his usual spot, walking up to Carlos' door with hawks fluttering in his stomach, and squares his shoulders before knocking. The door swings open as if Carlos has been waiting for him, and though he can't _see_ anybody, there's a shadow on the other side of the invitingly-held door and someone clearing their throat uncomfortably just out of sight. It's probably safe. Malicious mysterious door-openers spend years polishing their craft; a sudden attack of nerves in the middle of the act would be unthinkable.

"Carlos?" Cecil asks as he steps inside and just to the right to let the door swing closed again. He braces himself for disappointment. Maybe it's not what he's hoping. Maybe Carlos needs his help. Maybe....

Maybe two pairs of warm chocolate eyes will stare up at him from half a foot below where he's used to, two identical mouths gone plush and soft turning down in uneasy chagrin as he stares at perfect hair caressing _rounded_ cheekbones, jaws still squarish but softer, and the round softness hardly stops there. The pair are dressed in bits and pieces of Carlos' wardrobe--drawstring boxers cinched tight, well-washed university T-shirts and lab coats that hang off their narrow shoulders--but despite the clothes they're all but swimming in, even he can tell that they are _perfect._

He also realizes he knows exactly what Carlos will look like when Opposite Day sneaks back onto the civic calendar, but that's a thought that can wait for another time.

"Carlos?" he asks anyway, just to make sure, and realizes he doesn't know which one to look at. That worries him; there haven't been any sandstorms that he's aware of, and Carlos _always_ mentions any strange portals that crop up, so he's not sure what to think.

Both Carloses--Carli?--sigh in unison.

"I--" they both start, then look at each other. Cecil tenses, waiting for the explosion sure to follow, but the one who'd hung back only shrugs, and the one who'd answered the door lifts her chin. "We don't know what happened," she says as the other one begins chewing nervously at her lower lip. "Everything was totally normal, and then five minutes before five o'clock...ish," she adds with an affronted glance at the nearest clock, "we started to get dizzy. The next thing we knew, we were waking up on the floor and there were two of us."

"I was naked," the second Carlos offers, raising her hand, then blushes as Cecil boggles at her. " _Statistically,_ " she points out with massive dignity, "I'm more likely to be the clone."

"If we are in fact clones," the first Carlos says doggedly, as if she's been making this protest for hours now and is about to organize a movement, maybe give it a Facebook page. "It's just as likely that someone swapped our clothing while we were unconscious so that you'd _think_ you were the clone."

Cecil coughs and scratches his nose, trying not to look as embarrassed as he feels. "Er...that's a little paranoid," he says apologetically.

The flabbergasted looks he receives are identical, but it's the second Carlos that mutters, "You did _not_ just say that."

"Anyway," Cecil rushes on bravely, "I can't think of any holidays that could have caused this, and there must be _some_ explanation...did you...uh, either of you...do anything out of the ordinary today?"

The pair exchange glances that are only a little embarrassed, and not nearly so much embarrassed as hopeful with a touch of uncertainty. "Well," the first Carlos says slowly, "we did, uh...turn in our official permanent residency paperwork--"

Cecil isn't going to lie; the shriek he makes just then is as mortifying a sound as he has ever made in Carlos' presence, and that includes involuntary yelps of 'Neat!' and gormless 'Uh-huhs.' The difference is that he doesn't _care._

Carlos One and Carlos Two sputter at him as he scoops one into each arm and squeezes the stuffing out of them. He wants to jump up and down in his inexpressible joy, but some tiny hint of self-preservation in the back of his head warns him he's probably pushing his luck with the hugging. There are parts of Carlos squished against him that have never squished or been there to squish before, and if Opposite Day has taught him anything, it's that squishing requires mental preparation. Also, depending on the circumstances, a certain measure of support.

Two hands pat awkwardly at his shoulders until he steps back, beaming helplessly. "But that's wonderful!" he exclaims as twin smiles break across identical faces. "We'll have a party--I'll make trophies! I--you're going to stay!" There's a very good chance he may simply implode from happiness, and he wonders if he should suggest they take this to the kitchen to minimize the mess. Only he can't implode _now,_ not if Carlos really is going to put down roots, and not in the sense of the Whispering Forest--he's going to _stay._ In Night Vale. With Cecil if he's very, very lucky, but if nothing else, now that the paperwork has been filed--

Two pairs of eyes open wide as he freezes, sudden realization washing over him.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Cecil? Can you breathe?"

"Shit, he's going grey--I'll start the compressions--"

"No," he says in a strangled voice, "I'm fine--I just...I know what happened, and...it's an easy fix, I promise; we'll just...go back down to City Hall tomorrow when it opens, but...."

Four gorgeous eyes narrow at him calmly, and he is _so, so glad_ it's too late to un-file the application.

"What," Carlos One says.

"Happened," demands Carlos Two.

Cecil ducks his head. "It's, uh...when they filed your paperwork. There must have been a typo when they were entering you into the system, and...."

They blink at him.

"Carols," Carlos One says in a hushed tone of disbelief. "They entered us as _Carols._ And then... _this._ "

Carlos Two drops her face into her hand with a groan.

"Er...it really is easy to sort out? I mean...I don't know what will happen to... _either_ of you when it gets reversed...but I really can't condone killing your double!" he stresses frantically, wondering if he can really keep them apart. He already knows Carlos fights dirty when he realizes it's time to fight, which Cecil has always deeply admired.

To his relief, the pair look at him like he's just suggested a moonlight stroll through the Dog Park.

"That would _completely_ ruin the experiment," Carlos Two sniffs, shaking her head.

Carlos One pats his arm compassionately. "Really, Cecil. It's fine. Not everything in life is a Z movie."

"Ah," he says with a bewildered smile, not really certain what documentaries have to do with anything. It must be a science thing. "Well. I guess I should probably go...I mean, I know _my_ first Opposite Day, I was pretty, uh--oh. But if you have any questions about...." he babbles, making vague gestures at a pair of impossibly perfect chests. Frankly, they are _daunting._

"If you want a threesome," Carlos One tells him levelly, "you're going to have to bribe someone to make a different typo."

"But like hell you're leaving," Carlos Two informs him, taking him firmly by the arm and leading him towards the couch. "You're going to sit right here and explain this cohabitation form," she adds, cheeks flushing with the faintest dusting of red. "We got to the bit about forming a bloodstone lemniscate with our combined circles, but we don't speak Unmodified Sumerian, so...."

"That's where you come in," Carlos One says, dropping down on Cecil's other side when Carlos Two trails off uncertainly.

Cecil stares at the form he's never dared hope to see, sitting there perfectly aligned with the edge of the coffee table. Residency forms, yes, and he's so proud of Carlos for making it through that labyrinthine procedure all on his own, but... _cohabitation._ With _him._

And damn it, there is _squishing_ again, and undignified squealing, and oh, will he ever _learn?_

But Carlos is unreasonably charming when she laughs in stereo, like she's far too happy to mind, and that above all makes it _perfect._

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the most common typo I've had for this fandom, and I can only pray I've caught them all. Might as well get some fun out of it!


End file.
